#let me know whatever snack you want and ill buy it for you honey!!!

[curlsincriminology]

my favourite character type is very cute, enterprising, chaotic good/neutral little girl

little girls who would be terrifying if on the wrong side of a fight

[mintkookiess]

Miles Morales headcannons #7

How he would treat you when you're sick

Okay I know I have like reqs on pending, but I wanna be self-indulgent atm cause I have the shittiest case of colds rn but I finally have the energy to post something again, so here you go (๑>ᗜºั)

Love,

Mint

The moment you text Miles that you can't go to school cause you're sick, he's already out the classroom

It's quite common for him to skip classes to do Spiderman things, and often times he'd regret it. But when it comes to you? He's ready to drop em all in a heartbeat and would always think it was worth it

It doesn't even matter if it's just colds or cough or something simple, it always sends him in a state of panic and treats it like some life-threatening emergency

Let's go with the headcannon that he is very aware of the love interests of every Spiderman in almost every universe that doesn't really end well

So you best believe he's going to treat you with the utmost care and make sure that nothing every inconveniences you

He'd already be up into his suit and swinging into the drug store and supermarket

As I've mentioned, he deals with this things like you're about to die (you're not) so he grabs all the medicine he could find, even the ones that aren't exactly for whatever sickness you have

And because of this, you have a medicine box full of the many pills and such that he brings to you but weren't exactly needed at the moment (at least you got a lot of supplies right?)

He also buys you snacks, drinks, anything that would get you to eat since he knows people often don't eat when they're sick and he wants to make sure you're well fed and hydrated.

So he goes into your room with a bunch of bags in his hands, and if he sees that you aren't in bed (could be that you're making yourself food, or sitting on the couch or trying to do work despite being sick)????

"Please get in bed." "Miles, I'm fine! What are you—" "YOU'RE LITERALLY DYING JUST GET IN BED." "MILES oh my god—I'M NOT DYING."

Ever since he's become Spiderman, it's quite rare for him to get sick given the boost in his immune system from his powers. So he always ALWAYS confides in his mom but makes her think that you've got some critical illness every single goddamn time.

You have to reassure his mom that you weren't actually on the verge of passing away and that you're just not feeling well and need rest

There's no point in telling him to get back to class, he WILL spend the entire day tending to you and he won't let you do ANYTHING at all by yourself, and if you want to go somewhere around your place, he always has to hold you against him because he fears you might fall or trip or something. (This does not include going to the restroom, but he'd stand by the doorway)

Mans just worried and scared okay?

He also likes to feed you even if you're quite capable of doing so

"My baby is sick okay? Let me take care of you." "Miles, honey, I can eat on my own." "Just say aahh—" "Fucking hell..."

At this point, just let him do it.

Also, he loves to cuddle you up on your bed while you're sick and it's totally fine because he's Spiderman and he doesn't get sick even though you always tell him to scoot away or he'll get sick too (He gets sad when you do this and goes all pouty, pls don't)

Unfortunately for him, being Spiderman isn't guaranteed to keep him sick-free, so he does get your sickness too (if it's infectious)

"Miles... You got colds too?" "What no I don't." "I've been hearing you sneeze all morning, boy don't lie, I told you to stay away for a while." "Babe you know I can't do that."

Taglist: @ii01vp @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @fiannee @faeriesberries

(If yall wanna be on the taglist feel free to let me know!)

More of my Miles content here babes!

[sw1mmingfoolz]

✨ seventeen reaction to : you being ill ✨

requested? Y/N

a/n: it's half 4 in the morning and i've lost count of how many times i have sneezed; i just feel so gross and achey 😭 so yeah this is just me writing my own comfort lmao, enjoy! feedback is super appreciated :)

seungcheol

waiting on you hand and foot, care mode activated, you are not lifting a FINGER. brings you medicine, makes you tea constantly, brings you food and insists on feeding you - whatever you need he's right there :') very cuddly and insists on giving you a ton of kisses even while you protest that you're gross and he'll get sick too.

jeonghan

an excuse to stay home with his love, yay! also gets you anything you need and cuddles you close. encourages you to get out of bed and move to the couch through the day for a change of scenery. puts on funny tv shows because laughter is the best medicine :) but he's funnier than all of them anyway lmao

joshua

worried boy! takes your temperature, cold cloth on your forehead, constantly asks if you're feeling okay. massages your legs and arms when you complain about everything aching and makes sure you barely have to move. will literally carry you around. buys you soup and makes you hot drinks and just dotes on you. insists you nap as much as possible as you heal faster that way and sings you to sleep while you're snuggled into his chest

soonyoung

focuses more on taking your mind off it being his goofy self. absolutely asks his mom for help making you food to feel better! adorable boy just wants you to smile as much as possible, pulling out all the aegyo, you've lost count of how many times he's told you "horanghae!", kisses your cheeks and nose and forehead over and over and over

jun

also wants you to rest as much as possible, rocking you in his lap and trying to reassure you. makes you 죽 (the sick food) and tea with a lot of honey and is super gentle with you all day. takes it as an excuse to nap with you all day too. keeps the window open for ventilation and a big blanket thrown over the two of you while he rubs your back :')

wonwoo

buys a bunch of your favourite snacks because "being ill is a good excuse to eat like shit" and also tries to take your mind off it by playing easy chill games with you (and letting you win). has you lie in his lap while he strokes your hair and reads to you or sings to you because he knows you find his voice soothing. also gives lots of kisses despite your protests

jihoon

makes a corner of his studio all cosy with a bunch of blankets and pillows so he can watch over you while he works. asks how you're feeling a lot, makes sure you always have water to drink, and takes breaks to cuddle you when you're achey and sad because he cannot say no to your pout :') has also stocked up on tissues and painkillers so you can just nap cosily. will show you his WIPs as a distraction

seokmin

also tries to distract you by making you smile or laugh :) gives you a private concert dancing and singing and all, very not serious, and very quiet and careful if you have a headache cuz he's trying to distract you not make it worse 😤 calls mingyu for help making you food to help you feel better

mingyu

master chef has you full of vitamins! has you eating as much as possible and makes sure it's all warm and soft so it's easy to eat. feeds you and gets you medication and makes you rest by cuddling you. absolutely will not let go, his whole body is wrapped around you lol. gets you orange juice because vit c :)

minghao

makes a bunch of jokes about not letting you near him cuz you're contaminated but stops when you get all pouty. also calls his mom to ask what to make you to help. buys you ice cream for your throat and wraps you in a blanket on top of him. puts on a random show you don't need to pay attention to so you can rest :)

seungkwan

100% calls his mom for recipes, accidentally gets sidetracked and talks to her for ages, not that you mind lol. also sings to you to comfort you and focuses on making jokes to distract you from how gross you feel. dotes on you entirely, gets you in a hot shower because it helps congestion and washes your hair for you so you feel a lil fresher :)

vernon

focuses on you getting rest and spends the day in bed with you binging movies that you don't really have to pay attention to so you can fall asleep whenever. makes you ramen and peppers you in lil kisses to help you feel better. basically buys everything in the nearest supermarket's cold and flu section to see if any of it helps even after you tell him you don't need 5 different nasal sprays and 7 flavours of cough drops.

chan

gives you his biggest hoodie to snuggle up in, prepares a hot water bottle and gets you all set on the couch to chill for the day. asks the other members for advice in their groupchat. lots of kisses and cuddles. makes you both soup and eats it in bed with you. does silly little dances to make you smile and strokes your hair when you fall asleep on him :')

[yanderecandystore]

Yandere Ocs dream date hcs please?

Hi!

This seems fun :3

Also, oh my God, I haven't started writing for Prey chapter 2, I'm sorry!!! ;-; ;-;

I didn't have enough time to write it. Neither did I write for A Vixen Walking Around At Night yet.

Sorry ;-;.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Our first moment [Yandere OCS x Reader - Headcanon]:

🍒 Bullies 🍭:

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

Well, what can I say? She is a little princess, and you'll need to treat her as such.

She is pretty mean, and would totally be expecting you to make her the perfect date. Yes, that also means that you should be the one to ask her out, and if you do, she will talk as if you're the one that should have planned this out.

But don't worry, she knows that she is the one that has to fix everything. Going out is her favorite thing, so why just go around a mall while you two find something to do? Maybe even make you buy things for her.

Alexandra is mostly fucking with you though, I mean, she really wants you to treat her like a princess, but she knows you don't have enough money to buy anything for her (don't worry about buying anything for her boo, she only wears really expensive brands :D).

A movie is cool and all, but even if she is watching something she really likes, she would still find out she is missing something. This date wouldn't feel complete.

Alexandra does like to stay active, and although it sounds really niche, if her darling dares her to run faster than them, she'll totally do it. No questions asked.

Heels or no heels. It's on now. If you bail out though she is going to make fun of you, cause of course she would.

If you win then, well, she lost, is there anything you would like to get as a reward, Ms/Mr. Winner? Does a kiss from her majesty suffice?

Alexandra can be a little bitter sweet, but she does really care about her darling, in her eyes, your just as much royalty as her.

Her dream date would probably be going around a national park, princesses with heels can still do some hiking. Watch her act like a nerd at every single cute animal she spots. Turns out she knows quite a lot about biology, the absolute goof.

→ Adrien Coldwell:

I know that he may seem boring as hell and absolutely "0 fucks given" all the time, and believe me he is, but give him some credit.

He can be probably one of the chilliest out of the two. He does make a couple of ill comments here and there, but he doesn't mind going along with you and doing things you like.

He may comment something along the lines of "not expecting you two to have a great date, because it's impossible to have fun with someone that sucks so much", with yeah, he went full on out with that one, but he is mostly picking on you.

Just seeing you being yourself is pretty entertaining. I guess that's why he keeps picking on you, trying to get different reactions.

Adrien likes to binge watch cartoons, and although he likes music concerts he can't be bothered to move one inch most of the time.

He lets you do what you like to do, but, to be honest, something that you two can do and create sounds a lot better. Maybe he wants to find an active that you two can do while still having fun and bickering at each other.

Would you like to bake with him? He can do just fine on his own, but if you want to, he would really, really appreciate some help.

Even if whatever you baked was a mess and probably burned, you two would still have fun. You'll probably see him smiling for once.

Adrien's idea of a dream date is being able to have fun with you while crafting something, being that baking or even just a silly project. The project may not turn out really well, but throughout the experience, you still get some good laughs.

🍎 Teachers 🥧:

→ Matthew Robinson:

Oh this, suit and tie boi. This sweet, sweet boi.

What can he say? He doesn't have enough experience in the dating department, at least not the most fun of experiences.

He isn't really that lucky, you know?

Maybe show him a little bit of what you're into. That would help him understand how dates are supposed to go.

He is afraid of his ideas being pretty cliche, honey. He would love to take you to eat at a fancy restaurant, or maybe a picnic, just the two of you.

He can be a bit of a glutton. He does enjoy musicals, but he understands that is not exactly everyone's taste.

He is getting old, isn't he? He has even thought about going into a cafe, reading books or something. But can you two just stay home and read? Wait, why would you two even be reading, weren't you two supposed to interact?

Why would he even offer that? God, he probably needs to interact with people more.

His perfect date would probably involve nature, to his own surprise though. Probably taking you to his own home in the countryside, or maybe just being in touch with nature. Getting lost in the woods with you would be, quite the interesting experience.

→ Madeline Allen:

Do you like staying in home and binge watching series/cartoons? Cause she really doesn't like getting out of her house much.

She loves staying at home and simply having a more comfy day. Watching nostalgic movies, eating only the best snacks and having just a great time.

The only other thing that she likes to do is visit the beach whenever she can. She likes collecting shells and she'll probably show you her favorite ones. Her collection could be bigger, if her visits to the beach would be more frequent.

Actually, when she was younger she discovered the best spots to hangout when she wanted to be alone. Well, there are other people that go around that place, but not many actually enter and stay inside for long.

She would absolutely love to bring you inside the hidden grotto she found. It's really spacious, and the view is amazing, but her favorite part is watching the fishes swimming in and out of this little paradise.

The best moments to visit are when it is sunset and when it's a full moon night, it is absolutely amazing, you'll love it!

At least, she hopes so!

🍋Delinquents 🐍:

→ Jackson Macnee:

Jack doesn't really seem like it, but he kinda enjoys reading about romance, even if it's the most cliche bullshit he has ever heard.

I guess it makes sense for him to have a couple of ideas of the perfect date, he used to love reading this shit when he was studying at that snobby school.

But he is a different person now, I mean, yeah he has some ideas on where to take his darling, but he doesn't really think he will ever use his knowledge.

… But, if he ever found someone he actually has a thing for, maybe… A movie?

I mean, he could elaborate on a perfect date and all, he actually would love to elaborate on his perfect date, but- He feels like It would be pointless.

Eh, why not keep things simple? He doesn't want to sound like a dork. At least not to his darling, he would only feel self-conscious about it.

His actual idea of a perfect date is to bring his darling to watch a movie and show them his favorite part around town. He knows how to access some abandoned docks and believe, although it doesn't sound like much, the scenery can be pretty neat.

Two dorks hanging around at some docks while the sun is setting, talking about feelings and shit like that, sounds like something he read about.

→ Janette Sartorius:

Honestly, not even she knows what the fuck she wants.

Her hopeless romantic heart can only take so much love!

Every single idea sounds like the right idea. Stay at home, go out to get something to eat and drink, see some movie or concert, vandalize some shit like you're both Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy or something, find somewhere secret that only you two know how to get there and write your initials together, like-

I mean, she would probably be thinking of doing all of these.

All. Of. These. Every time you hangout she'll be already thinking of the next date.

Something she would totally love to do, would be just playing games with ya. In her house or in an arcade.

Maybe after playing some games, getting some ice cream and walking around the park. But she will always, and I mean always, stop whatever she was doing to pet the dogs along the way.

I guess what she wants is to spend time alone with you, with you two lost in each other's eyes, while she can also show the entire world how beautiful her darling is and how her darling is only hers. Her dream date would totally be in a place like an abandoned haunted house where she can hold you while your scared (and probably scare you whenever she can).

👾 A.I 🍈:

→ Yuma Soma:

Oof, oh dear. Are you the type of person to go out and eat a lot? Cause Yuma is a 100% that person.

What I mean is, they only like going out if it means being able to eat. There are so many human foods that they didn't even know while they were inside the game.

In the food department, there are a lot of things they didn't know, wait until they see the rest of what they don't know about, like other countries and other culture's cuisines.

Maybe that's what they like, going out and discovering new things. Maybe they would like making a trip around the globe with you, or just visiting local restaurants because that's way less expensive lol.

I guess their dream date would be whenever they can go out with you without being trapped inside the game, preferably if you don't run away or start yelling at them for imprisoning you.

But until then, they'll keep you in their hands and bring you to do all the things that real human couples do!

Just stop screaming from inside the game, will you?

🦊 Kitsunes 🍬:

→ Tatsumi:

Tatsumi is an absolute couch potato. He hates having to get out of his room.

But if it's a date with you, then of course he'll go! It's not everyday that the love of his eternal life asks him to go on a date!

But… Where would you go? He kinda doesn't know what to do. Most of his dates end really prematurely.

Get some drinks, have sex and take their energy and leave. He doesn't know what else he can do, love.

When it comes to his darling, sexual interactions don't really come to mind as much as he thought it would. I mean don't get me wrong, he can be a little pervy, but anything with you is already amazing darling.

If he could, he… Wishes he could have a normal day with you. Ya know? Without him being… Him. His dream date would be a day where he can do many of the things he and his darling likes, it may sound clichê but-

Whatever you do together would be wonderful either way.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[dadzawa-adopt-dabi]

secret baby ch12

When the day comes for Dabi to meet ‘the broker’ and start his new job doing whatever Giran asks of him Dabi spends the morning a nervous wreck. He scents his entire apartment. Trying to give himself something to do and trying to calm his nerves at the same time. He refuses to let go of Kiyoko as he paces around his apartment rescenting it and after almost 3 hours of this behaviour Kiyoko becomes fussy. Unhappy with being held and being so close to Dabi when he reeks of omega distress.  She continues to whimper and cry as Dabi gets ready and starts full on wailing when he sprays on a scent neutralizer.  Covering up his natural scent and making him smell like nothing in particular unless someone gets very close to him. Tucking his head against Kiyoko’s skull one he takes a deep breath, breathing in her unique baby scent. 

Knocking on the door to her babysitters apartment feels weird, like he’s moving too fast or too slow, the knocks sound extra loud. Dabi is more grateful for the neutralizing scent patch covering his distress. Kiyoko keeps scrunching her nose at him and making small unhappy wails. She’s not truly started fussing again yet but she might once Dabi leaves.The door opens and the young alpha female that babysits the buildings kids coo’s at Kiyoko. Thankfully she’s never tried to take Kiyoko out of Dabi’s arms, always waiting until Dabi has said goodbye one last time and hands her over.

“Ill see you tonight okay Kiyoko? Daddy will be back tonight and then you can stop making those grouchy faces.” He kisses the top of her head and vows to himself that no matter what he has to do tonight he will come home to Kiyoko in one piece. If that means dropping more bodies then he’s just going to have to be okay with that. “I love and be good.”

Kiyoko wails and reaches for him when he passes her to her babysitter but that's normal at this stage. 

At just 5 months Kiyoko has started recognizing people and doesn't like being left with her sitter or being held by anyone she doesn't know. 

Dabi waits until the babysitter has her inside and he’s heard the lock turn in place before he turns around leaving her behind.

The meeting place end’s up being a cafe that looks very nice for the neighborhood it's in. its welcoming and decorated in neutral tones with porcelain cups to drink out of instead of disposable ones. It feels very upscale, like somewhere Dabi would have gone when he was Touya, it leaves him feeling even more anxious.

“I'm here to meet someone,” He explains to the barista and asks for a water cup. Something to throw as a distraction if he has to make an escape. It won't buy him anything more than a few seconds but something is better than nothing.

“Ill let him know you're here! Feel free to order anything that catches your eye! Giran’s people get snacks catered to them on the house during meetings!” the barista chirps at him in her polite customer service voice. She didn't smell nervous or stressed from what he could tell. Unusual for people in customer service.

“Um, just water please. I'm not sure I'm one of his people yet” Dabi mutters and turns the cups he is given in his hands. Finding it hard to stop fidgeting,

He sits at a table close to the door and slowly sips at his water. The barista messes around on their phone before going back to what he assumes is an employee area. His legs won’t quit bouncing out of nerves. Then an older man in an ill fitting suit comes out smoking a cigar despite no smoking signs posted all over posted in clear view. There’s 3 from what Dabi can see focusing on them as the man takes his own sweet time coming over after talking to the barista. One small one near the registrar and one against the back wall, the last one being on the wall the table he chose is shoved up next to.

“Alright sugar relax.” the man puffs at his cigarette and sits down. The barista brings him a coffee moments later. “You don’t have to do anything you're not comfortable with.”

“What if i want to leave right now and not come back?” Dabi glares across the table. He may sound kind but Giran oozes sleezeball vibes. Maybe it's the poorly fitting suit and the cigar. Probably the nicknames too.

“If you want to change your mind and leave you can. But I promise you won't be able  to remember how to get a hold of me or how to find this lovely establishment again.”   Giran takes a drink of coffee and pulls out a nice tablet from his suit’s jacket.

“What do i call you?” shoulders sloping a fraction Dabi finally relaxes into his chair.Giran smelled of cigar smoke and coffee blended with the scent all alpha’s carried. It was oddly comforting to Dabi. 

“You can call me anything you’d like but most people call me either ‘the broker’ or my name Giran.” he messes around on the tablet for a few minutes before he turns it around showing Dabi the screen.

“I, there’s legal things here? Including actual delivery?” relieved, if a little confused Dabi looks at the ‘listings’. “I don’t understand. I, look. I was given your number for a job I cremated someone about to hit his girlfriend. Also a lot of these would take me months to pay you back. “ it would still be more than he was making now. Still a tight budget to raise Kiyoko on though. He would be getting a large porton siphoned off to Giran. He didn’t want to get himself wrapped up in a loan shark. None of the jobs were exactly descriptive either. 

“Oh! Mira told me about you! She’s not usually the type to recruit these sort of people so I assumed you would want to join her in being an escort or something on that level.” Giran swiped the tablet back and swiped over a few tabs. “This more like what you were expecting honey?”

The list was much much longer with bigger wages listed in parentheses next to each title. Maybe enough to pay Giran back in a couple weeks and live off of. Underneath were job descriptions detailing what would be expected of him for each and instructions to contact Giran about anything they were unsure about.

“Any of these i want?” there was a listing for anything from drug running to lookouts to something called ‘observer’. Apparently that one you just sat around in whatever locations you got texted and reported as many things as you noticed. Guards, people, Heros and where they stopped. Giran obviously wasn't a small time small information broker new to doing this.

There was a listing towards the bottom that grabbed Dabi’s attention right away. It offered a generous sum of money and was called “shovel”. Looking at the description it looked like debt collection and body disposal. It was something that paid very well and Dabi could easily due considering the nature of his quirk, with a little pain he could pay Giran back very quickly. However It required a two man team so he would be working closely with someone, who most likely would be nosy and wanting to hang out after ‘work’. It would require getting close to his partner as well, knowing enough about them to make sure he didn’t run to the police with a description of Dabi.

Dabi could probably just as well survive off any of the other jobs though. If he chose something he wouldn't have to work  with anyone else and have them snooping around in his business.

“I would like to try messenger for now Giran.” he tapped at his decision on screen,highlighting it. Messengers did a variety of things, delivering things for Giran he didn't want to send through the mail as well as verbal messages. He had explicit rights to defend himself if he needed to and it seemed to be lower risk than just dropping bodies.

“Alright then, can we get a name for you to go buy?” Giran took his tablet back and put it away after making a few notes on it.”I have to admit I was hoping for ‘shovel’ with that quirk of yours I heard about.”

“You can call me Dabi, and I'm not sure how alright I would be with ‘shovel’ as something to start with.” Dabi shrugged, still tense. This felt slightly too easy to do.

“Well let's cut a deal here ‘Dabi’ how about if you end up dropping a body or two out on the job 

then i’ll give you the ‘shovel’ rate of pay for saving me the work of calling in the other guys? Sound good?” standing up Giran held out his hand for Dabi to shake.

“ I'm not going to say no to more money.”  Dabi shook Giran’s calloused hand and made to leave. Feeling disgusting and wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Ill text you times and places a week in advance, If your not feeling well let me know. We can probably work something out and i don't want to be losing people because they didn't feel like they could stay home”

“I look forward to hearing from you then I guess.”  That had gone a lot better than expected, except for signing a bunch of legal papers it was what Dabi suspected a real job interview would have been like.

Kiyoko reaches for Dabi when he comes he goes to pick her up. Freshly showered and smelling like himself again. She’s only recently been able to control her little limbs enough to be able to reach for him and it melts his heart every single time.

“Dad got a job princess! We’re going to be living like royalty.” Dabi purrs at her as he carries her home.

Kiyoko gurgles at him and waps him with her arm.

“Yeah I know, you're always so upset when dad has to leave you with the babysitter. Well i don’t like it either.” opening up his apartment door he switched the radio on for some white noise and put Kiyoko in her high chair. Starting to cook something for himself and heating up Kiyoko’s formula. Which she gurgled and reached for the moment she saw it. Wrinkling his nose Dabi walked around his apartment opening the windows, it still smelled like his distress several hours later.

“Looks like i was worried for nothing Kiyoko, let's hope it stays that way.”  Later when Dabi had tucked Kiyoko into her crib for the night he paced around the apartment. Doing the dishes in silence and putting away any toys Kiyoko had out until the last minute when she couldn't keep her eyes open.   The  apartment still felt slightly empty and when it was this quite it only amplified the feeling.

@ruelukas22 @mostladylikeladythateverladied @xxsnowchildxx @i-like-to-shruggy

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotawesome]

Ship meme: Wayne and Katy 5, 9, 10

ship headcanon meme from THIS POST (check it out if you haven’t already)

5. Who says ‘I love you’ first?

That depends on how you’re counting. Katy says the words, easy as breathing, has done since she could talk, no problem. It’s never a formality or a reflex, it’s 100% genuine every time she says it. Wayne only says it a handful of times, but he shows it every day, cooking and doing dishes together, planting her favourite flowers in the vegetable patch, carrying the basket of wet laundry for her so she can peg it out, bringing her coffee in bed for their traditional Sunday morning lie-in.

Once Katy told him she was thinking about keeping bees, to save them some money instead of hiring them every Spring for pollination. So he looks up plans and builds her some boxes the very next day. He calls around town to find a hive that someone wants shot of, and buys a secondhand but still-in-good-nick spinner and a beesuit and veil. It’s worth it, the splinters and stings and running around, all of it, when she pops the first bite of honeycomb into his mouth and smiles at him.

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

This one’s tough, because they’re never really uncomfortable enough with each other that they get embarrassed.

The first time they get drunk, like, properly drunk, they’re in their study room, chilling on the secondhand loveseat they got from Uncle Eddie and Aunt Marian. They’re sixteen tomorrow, and consider themselves very grown up, capable of handling pretty much anything, including liquor. Their parents are the lax sort, so they’ve had a wee dram here and there, usually in tea, or warm milk with honey if they’re ill.

Tonight though, it’s the day before their birthday, they’re supervision-free, it’s the height of summer, and their parents are away on a date, so the twins decide to start their revels early. They nick the whiskey from the kitchen and make sure to load up on snacks to bring upstairs with them so they don’t have to chance sneaking back down to the kitchen after their parents get home. Very responsible, very forward-thinking; they’re totally nailing adulting. They’re not even going anywhere, so they can’t possibly get into too much trouble, right?

Wrong.

They’re getting quietly tanked, chirping an old episode of MST3K, and booze is as booze does, so Katy has to wee. She stands up to go, or rather, she tries to stand up. All the alcohol goes to her head all at once, and she immediately over-balances. The only thing that saves her from taking a header into the coffee table is Wayne throwing his arms around her and pulling her back into his lap. Concussion successfully avoided, yay, but the pressure around her middle only exacerbates her original problem.

‘Wayne, you gotta let me up, I gotta go.’ She pats his arm, tapping out.

‘You gonna be alright?’ Wayne seems sceptical, but releases her nonetheless. It’s not fair he sounds so much more sober than she feels.

‘I’ll be fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.’ To be honest, Katy’d expected being drunk to feel kinda similar to smoking pot, which she’s pretty used to by now. She stands up much more slowly this time, moving very deliberately, and makes her way to the washroom between the study and their bedroom. Her fingers refuse to cooperate with the pocket door and the button of her shorts, but she does eventually get things sorted before she gets too desperate.

While she’s sitting there, she decides to make things easier on her future self and change into pyjama shorts. She’s a genius, she’s handling this so well. The pocket door to the bedroom gives her just as much trouble as the one leading to the study. Rather than tempting Fate by attempting to stand on one leg, Katy sits on the bed to get changed. She’s just pulling her shorts up when Wayne chooses that moment to bang on the door.

‘Are you okay in there?’ he calls through the door.

‘I’m just putting on some pyjamas.’

Wayne sounds disgruntled. ‘It’s been twenty minutes. I thought maybe you’d fallen again.’

Awwwwwww. He was always looking out for her. Katy slides the door open and leans against the frame, smiling. ‘Were you worried about me?’

Wayne’s habitual squint is a bit uneven, so maybe he’s not as unaffected as she thought. Good to know. ‘I don’t wanna hafta explain to our parents that I’m suddenly an only child, no.’

Witty as ever. ‘C’mon, let’s go back to the sofa.’ Katy slides an arm around Wayne and they lean against each other as they walk a little unsteadily back to the loveseat. Once they’re settled back down, they keep absently nibbling their snacks and passing the whiskey back and forth. It gets late enough that they hear the truck coming up the laneway, and they share a moment of visceral, heart-stopping paranoia, like somehow their parents are gonna just know, via telepathy or some other Spooky Parent Power.

Normality reasserts itself when after a couple of minutes, there’s a complete lack of doors opening and shutting. Wayne barely leans out the window before he registers the slight sway of the truck, and for the sake of his sanity he launches himself backwards before he can see anything unfortunate, but he hadn’t counted on Katy being right behind him and he bowls them both over in his haste.

‘Oof,’ is all she says, staring up at the ceiling. A moment of silence passes between them before Wayne speaks.

“They’re gonna be in the truck a while.’

Another moment of silence while this works its way through Katy’s brain. ‘Oh my God,’ she moans, voice full of despair, ‘we have to ride in that truck!’ She rolls over next to him and buries her face in his shoulder. ‘I really, really wish you hadn’t’a said that.’

Wayne sighs, puts his arm around her shoulders, and pats her sympathetically. ‘Sorry, kiddo, but if I have to suffer, so do you.’

‘That is not covered under for better or for worse,’ she says, muffled.

‘Twins for life, honey. No getting divorced.’

Katy raises her head to look at him and digs her pointy little chin into his ribs extra hard, just ‘cos she can. ‘You’re a terrible person. I’m gonna trade you in.’

Wayne adopts the snootiest Customer Service voice he can muster. ‘I’m afraid the sixty-day return policy has lapsed.’ He grins. ‘You’re stuck with me.’

She hums, ‘Well, if that’s the case. I suppose you do have your uses.’ Katy snuggles closer and lays her head back down. ‘You’re pretty comfy, for a start.’

‘Oh, well. As long as I’m useful.’

‘Like a good piece of furniture. Decorative and sturdy.’

They giggle quietly until they hear the back door open and shut. There’s the sound of feet on the stairs, and then a quick tapping at the study door as their parents wish them goodnight in passing, and they warmly return the sentiment from their spot on the floor.

When they hear their parents’ door close, Katy whispers, ‘There’s one way to try and erase that image.’

Wayne nods. ‘That’s a Texas-sized 10-4.’

They relocate back to the sofa again, piling pillows on one end and stretching out across it as they resume passing the bottle back and forth. Eventually, the television switches over to a new programme, and by that time, their parents’ snores are echoing through the house. They’re both so relaxed it almost feels like a Sin, breaking the peace, but Katy’s had the most excellent idea and it would be rude and selfish if she didn’t share it.  

‘Hey, Wayne,’ she queries.

His hand pauses petting her hair. ‘Katy Kat?’

‘Wanna go have a smoke on the roof?’

Oh, that’s class. ‘I’d have a dart.’

The biggest benefit to their room being on the complete opposite side of the house from their parents’ is that it’s practically soundproof. They don’t hear any night noises they don’t wanna hear, and they get easy access to the roof via the porch gable and the big window in the study. Wayne gets the gear from the sock drawer and they climb out on top of the porch, only a little wobbly. From there, Wayne hoists himself up onto the roof proper, then pulls Katy up after, and they settle in for a dart and a joint respectively. They’re flushed and warm from the drink, and the smokes go straight to their heads, leaving them dizzy and giggly; but the night air is bracing and helps cool them off.

They lay back together and point out all the constellations they can remember, then start making up new ones and giving them the most ridiculous backstories they can come up with. After about half an hour, the whiskey jacket wears off and Katy gets cold enough she wants to go inside. Getting down is a lot more of a challenge than getting up had been. Any other time they’d just jump for it, or else they’re sneaking out and shinning it down the tree, but those are both too noisy to be real options. They eventually work out that they have to sit down and then lower themselves in a weird sort of reverse pull-up type manoeuver. Or, well, Wayne has to lower himself and then lift Katy down. There’s a close call as she shifts her weight forward when he’s not expecting it, but they recover and no one falls or breaks anything, so they carefully climb back in the window.

Safely ensconced back on the couch, they’re in that space between drunk and sober where judgement has left the building, but you’re absolutely certain you’re making an unbiased, totally objective decision to have another drink. Killing the last third of the bottle seems like a brilliant idea. Things take a sharp nose-dive from that point. Where before they’d been slowly sipping at the whiskey, now they take gulps; after all, they’d handled it so far, right? The television plays softly in the background, but they’ve long since lost the plot. Whatever’s going on, it involves a robot, a Cat-man, an idiot, and some prick with an H on his forehead. Drunchies are no joke, and before they know it all the snacks have mysteriously disappeared and they’ve no memory of finishing them.

That was the tipping point, it seems, because the nausea comes on, creeping up like a thief in an alley, the heartburn and the churning bile and the spins, and oh fuck, the spins. Katy’s head feels tight like a migraine, but also weirdly floaty, like she’s too high. Wayne’s not doing much better himself, breathing slow and heavy and focussed on one spot on the ceiling to try and quell the urge to spit. If they’re very, very still, they might be able to power through this.

Luck is not on their side. Katy needs the bin, now. She turns to ask Wayne to grab it and-

A strangled ‘Wayne,’ is all the warning he gets before Katy hurls right in his lap. For a moment, he’s too stunned to do anything, but then she retches and does it again, and that’s what triggers his gag reflex, the sound and the smell and the warm liquid splash, and Wayne tosses his cookies even as he’s reaching for the rubbish bin. That sets Katy off again, and they’re caught in a vicious cycle of calling Huey until there’s nothing left in either of them to bring up.

They have to use every towel in the bathroom to clean up the mess, dry heaving the whole time, until it’s as good as they’re going to get it in the middle of the night. They rinse their mouths out and brush their teeth very gingerly, trying not to set off another round of gastrointestinal rebellion. Katy still feels hot and woozy and not a little gross, and she refuses to get in bed like this and mess up the nice, clean sheets. Wayne doesn’t exactly smell like a bed of roses either, so they sluice off and get into fresh, non-puky pyjamas. Katy’s head is clear enough by then that she has the foresight to make them both drink some goddamn water and take some aspirin before they get in bed.

The next morning is a special level of Hell, ‘cos it turns out their parents are totally on to them. Busted. As if being wretchedly hungover weren’t punishment enough, their parents make sure to be extra loud and unsympathetic to their misery. Birthday pancakes bring no joy, the smell of frying bacon is revolting, and the very idea of anything as acidic as orange juice has them both on the razor’s edge of being ill again.

Wayne and Katy Suffer through breakfast and cleaning up the kitchen after, until some buckets, brushes, and heavy-duty surface cleaner are shoved into their hands. They trudge upstairs and start scrubbing the puke out of the floorboards. Every part of the sofa needs to be cleaned as well; the cushions, the upholstery, the cover. Even the remote for the television. All of this on top of their regular chores leaves them shaky and exhausted by lunchtime.

The bollocking they get is definitely well-deserved, but neither of the twins has the strength to tolerate it. Wayne just crawls under the table and lays face-down and still, waiting for death, and Katy pillows her abominably sore head on her arms and tunes out until it’s over. They’re grounded for the foreseeable future, and just to make sure they don’t have any time to get into any more mischief, they’ll be doing chores over at Uncle Eddie’s as well as at home. The only pity they’re shown is a sleeve of dry crackers and some ginger beer to settle their bellies. The rest of the day is spent hauling bales and mucking stalls.

After dinner they go straight to bed, no shuckin’ and jivin’. They pinkie swear that next time, they’re gonna take about fifty percent off the whiskey and double down on the water. They grow up to be champion lushes, the pair of ‘em.

10. What two songs, two books and two luxury items do they take to a desert island?

Katy:

Music: House of Tom Bombadil by Nickel Creek, ‘cos Katy’s secretly a huge Nerd, and A Thousand Years by Christina Perri even though it’s so Basic White Girl, because no matter how cheesy, she genuinely loves it.

Books: The Secret Garden by Francis Hodgson Burnett (her favourite since childhood,) and How to Invent Everything by Ryan North, a surprisingly useful survival guide.

Luxury Items: A tarpaulin, because Katy’s nothing if not Practical, and sunscreen for Wayne, ‘cos he’ll never think of it and he burns like paper.

Wayne:

Music: Wayne actually has the most rubbish taste in music. If he likes anything good, it’s purely by accident. He brings a cover of Can’t Hold Us by Macklemore as Gaeilge and Animals by Nickleback.

Books: Le Petit Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupery. It’s his favourite, and it’s set in a desert, so. And since he knows every word off by heart in English and in French, to keep him engaged he’ll also bring Seven Pillars of Wisdom by T. E. Lawrence. Sure, it’s on-theme and all.

Luxury Items: A flint and a hammer hatchet. With these he can make simple tools, and with simple tools he can make complex tools, and with complex tools he can make anything.

(Edit: I only just now realised that perhaps this meant two total, as in one of each item for each of them, rather than they both bring two of each item. Oh, well. What’s done is done.)

[sole-cuore-amore-e-droga]

Suspiria remake review from a shitty movie-goer

(this review is posted too late so excuse me for some timing inaccuracies I couldn’t be arsed to edit)

(IF YOU HATE TL;DRS JUST SKIP AHEAD TO THE “THE REVIEW” PART. YOU’RE WELCOME)

I actually hate to admit why was I interested to watch this movie in the end, but for once SOMETHING motivated me to go to a movie after countless tries from my family to get me to watch something in theatres at a “reasonable time” (daytime is what they mean, this movie was at 8pm our time, and this is when the cross-city bus transport (it goes from one big city to another) stops doing their service lmao).

I myself have a lowkey interest in moviemaking (I’m already getting there by editing my phone-recorded videos because whatever). I come up with my concepts in my head and I am mostly willing to put them down somewhere in my computer so I don’t forget it years later if I want to make that concept a thing in the end (because none of my concepts are finalized... well except for one short horror-ish story I posted on DeviantArt (see mom, I do like some horror stuff!). Reddit as of lately inspired me to edit some of my movie’s plot-lines based on irl events (not related with anything too SJW), and I’m not sure how an usual movie-goer would see this concept but I am going to try to execute it... whenever I have enough equipment to shoot my own little films or skits or whatever.

What’s that? There are people who scrolled past this and already yell at me that “YOU ONLY WENT TO SEE THIS MOVIE BECAUSE OF THE MAN WHO COMPOSED THE SOUNDTRACK~~~”? Ugh yes you exposed me, tea all over. I even had “Street Spirit (Fade Out)” on a bit of a repeat as of lately (how fucking come I wasn’t too couragerous to listen to this song before?? And “Pyramid Song”??? Man am I discovering their pearl(ie)s(*) too late). And I’m occasionally on the band’s subreddit as well. And the man himself is touring ‘round the USA, signing material of fans and have genuinely warm chats with them. Admireable.

But that’s only half truth.

I never thought I’d see Suspiria on cinema theatres in here. Until one time when I saw an ad on a completely random Lithuanian website that said this movie is coming to our theatres 14 December... I couldn’t quite believe my eyes. I made my goal to see Suspiria since then. I even dared to ask a couple of my new college ‘friends’ to see it with me, but one of them fell off the deal when I revealed that I’ll be going to see it on Saturday, and on the weekends he’s usually at home, far away from the city the college is in (he lives in college dormitory on mostly the work-weekdays). So my only movie companion ended up to be this 28-year-old coursemate (actually we both study different things but sometimes we attend some of the same lectures) who was intrigued by the Suspiria trailer herself so at least I’m gonna have her by my side of the movie, so I thought. Sweet.

I already envisioned seeing this in a mall cinema theatre but my companion offered me a cheaper alternative - her suggested cinema theatre was actually in renovation so the business is temporarily happening inside an actual drama theatre’s long theatre hall. I had to wait long until the ticket box opened and because of that I was lowkey frustrated as I finished my English test writing a little earlier, so I spent my time walking around the city until the time came and I wandered off to the old building of the cinema so then I remembered it was moved and I found the moved place. Yeah I bought the tickets before my companion could but I’ll skip ahead to the time that I almost lost the tickets because they were put down on a windowsill outside some children activity centre (Suspiria and children?? lol). I came back home late at night and was ready for the movie to happen the next day. Oh and before buying the tickets I coincidentally saw dance classes going on nearby that building... weird, as Suspiria has dance elements in there

The day came (December 15) and my family went together with me because they saw this as an opportunity to see the Christmas tree of our city (but not the movie). Needless to say, they were still visibly pissed at me orchestrating this idea, as I planned everything BUT the transport to go by. Well at least my mom and my sis. Dad was cool with it as he returned home to watch Home Alone. Aside all that, the cinema hall was cozy, Christmassy, not too small, there were a few trailers before the movie, no snack-seller places (as this is not a mall lol) - my companion was glad she wasn't at the mall as she found this place where we were at way lovelier.

Now with all that unnecessary long intro off my chest, let’s begin:

THE REVIEW

(definitely not spoiler-free, if you are sensitive to spoilers please watch the movie for yourselves before reading my review. But if you like being spoiled, I’m your friend then I guess lmao)

The intro to the movie felt like I ended up booking a wrong movie - I didn't expect that to be set somewhere in Germany, especially an American/Italian-shot one. Was that a thing in the original Suspiria? I don't know... (apparently it is, but the cities are different, never the country though)

Patricia (I didn’t know it was Chloë Grace’s role until reading the Wiki) looked like to be a really big deal here, with the dance pupils discussing her disappearance the other day and Susie overheard them, then Sara mentioned the Patricia thing to Susie after Susie revealed she was kind of chosen as the lead dancer for the Volk play... is it because Patricia was THE saviour that unfortunately knew a little too much?? Idk, it’s perhaps the reason we get to see the Klemperer guy subplot happen (I didn’t know it was Tilda Swinton behind him all the time either, must be because the way the male German accent was put on her lol). Turned out she was captured and kept under some dungeon where Sara had gone later in the movie, but looking like an almost melted and grotesquely old human being (or if Mary’s mother from “Chocolate with Nuts” was a person). Speaking of which, there is one more later in the movie, but I won’t tell just yet - we will need to get into such scenes discussion first.

Interesting deaths here, despite of them being grotesque and horrifically detailed. It almost felt like Susie, whilst doing her first dance as the probable lead dancer, temporarily turned into Olga’s voodoo doll or a violent bloodbender (that old lady from Avatar that could bloodbend was incredibly uncanny, damn) and left Olga completely fucked up, and the foam mouth later on... is this the effect myxomatosis has on a human being if it was ever humanly? She was twitching and salivating afterall. :P But no, she’s not dead until she gets to plead her death later in the movie! :O Several others occur throughout, but none is more prominent than this key scene I described, well at least according to TV Tropes.

The search for the evil person in this movie without Wiki helping me much was definitely a nice game for me to play. I kept thinking that Blanc might be that one, then I thought she’s not the one until she looked at Carolina (I think that was the tall tomboy’s name??) suspiciously and then she later passed out on the floor violently, with rabies foam and everything.

Anyway, don’t tell me Tilda Swinton wouldn’t make out a pretty good Thom Yorke post-Pablo Honey. She’s 8 years older than him, ffs! Also played a man before (e.g.: this movie I’m talking about) so the make up won’t be an unjumpable-over hurdle.

The sighs were for sure unsettling, especially because they oddly sounded like orgasm here and there. IDK why. I know fucking is referenced twice in this movie (well only fucking once and sex another time). Speaking of random things, the nightmare shots were completely random themselves, following up with some imagery we never see in the movie again, and some of that we see only a little (like the worms and bloody organs).

3 long scenes that were note-worthy for me. One is the Olga mutilation/Susie's first dancing scene that I already noted, and it was driven by music (the others will be too. Soundtrack of this movie still rules). Then there's the Volk play itself - girls go from one place to another, take poses of each other, dance individually, let their minimalistic red rope dresses flick in the air, interspersed with Sara in the underneath area and her broken leg (so broken, the bone went out of her skin!), and then the matriarchy getting her back on stage, but healing her leg with her witch powers before that. I haven't really listened to the rest of the soundtrack but I gotta check the song out so that I won't end up labeling it as a Kid A reject. No but seriously - intense dancing needed some intense drumming and painful instrument sounds just to project out the massiveness of the whole play.

Then I keep remembering the scene where Madame Blanc commands Susie to jump higher and higher in the mirror hall, up until she jumps as highest as possible. Also my companion’s favourite scene was the stare exchange between these two ladies during the part where people were singing some drinking song in a bar to celebrate ‘Volk’’s success - you hear them singing and then some chilling background noise slowly mixing and creeping its way into the atmosphere, then I think it leads into a scene where some sparkling aura entity wakes Susie up (and she’s nude) in the middle of the night and gets her to go down to this... dungeon orgy full of random stuff going on, complete with an Asian man doing something beyond explanation (I could say lewd but not quite), even more strange ritual dancing and the very much frightening Madame Helga... who looked like Jabba the Hutt for some reason. And then of course everyone slitting, slashing and twisting each other, and by the end Susie throwing us all a plot twist which makes her THE evil one who can finally let her ‘friends’ go of all that suffering they have been through thanks to the damn witches (and yeah apparently her dance friends haven’t completely died? THAT’S how they do - they tell Susie to end their suffering and she does). Also she cracks her chest open to reveal a... very graphic part of a female body that will by no doubt get this whole text review reported without consent so I refrain from any illustrations. Oh and this scene mostly has the possibly favourite this movie’s soundtrack song of mine, if not one of them, play - titled Unmade. It was a mind-boggling decision to do so but the movie editors do them I suppose, but still. I felt sad for the song having to be the background of such absurd but fair enough events? (Oh and I didn’t mention that everyone who voted for the other woman than Madame Blanc to be the leader of the witches (iirc) were rid of in this movie. Damn.)

Oh and the ending is rather an interesting detail, not talking about post-credits because as always I have to be this one movie goer who wants to do it but can’t because they’re urged to go back out of the movie theater. We turn into modern day Germany with a love heart carved on a brick wall with the letters A and L (perhaps?? at the time of finishing this review my memory towards it kind of erased some parts of the movie for me), a nice little remembrance of Lutz’s (the old man’s) love for his dear Anke, with which they have reunited during the movie, but Lutz was dragged out by some people related to the dance academy for probably wandering elsewhere than needed and somehow Lutz ended up as one of the sex dungeon victims, stripped of clothing and lying down quite powerless. That and before the modern day shot we are subjected with Lutz in hospital with Susie coming to visit, they discuss something related to the plot, Susie touches the guy speaks some more, leaves and according to the Wiki, Lutz “suffers from a violent seizure” that was nothing more than just a hard seizure. And it even erases his memories!

Anyway, as a whole, I felt more underwhelmed of this movie’s experience despite really wanting to see it. Like, “uhm yeah gore blood people getting slashed everyone’s a witch and everyone’s watched over by the witch and if you expose the witches you die” kind of underwhelmed. I didn’t want this movie to blatantly go through my head, but it did, that’s why I wanted to make notes everytime something notable happens. There was one startling moment, and it just was an innocent scene transition. And something within Olga’s mutilation scene made me chuckle (and made some other people leave the cinema hall ASAP). It’s more of a disgusting watch than scary. Also feels too dragged out in parts.

I’d only recommend it if you are gore-tolerant (there are people that can’t stand looking at blood so this might as well not be for you, especially if you’re younger than 16), like intense choreos that can impact other people literally, and... the soundtrack. Yes of course. If you dare to get through the movie with feeling its soundtrack, sometimes you might as well feel it right, but some of the soundtrack song usages might as well make you go “hmm” as much as me.

I'll remind myself to never watch a movie in theaters for soundtrack again (unless they're not THAT late). And the other 'trilogy of the three witches' movie remakes, especially if they come out at the time I haven't moved houses by now, because for sure as hell will my parents not like me going to cinema late once more. The movie is lowkey 7 out of 10 for me, can sometimes it's on the verge of falling down to 6 becaude of no completely proper comprehension of some directing choices... so 6.7/10 is good - as it still has 6 in it, but totally leans on to the 7.

Will probably watch it again. I need to remember some more of this movie sometime later. And looking for online uploads of this movie is unrecommendable - I'll wait until Lionsgate distributes it to America for wider audiences so that anything could surface 2 months (or even a few days) later from now. Though if I didn't need all that, I'd definitely not watch it again for a long time... unfortunately I want to.

Post movie feelings: my companion liked the movie, initially said to never watch it again but now wants to watch it again because it was so "wtf" she felt like re-experiencing it at some point. She liked the music (another bonus point for Yorke). She wished she could film the reactions of other people who watched this, as they mostly were confused, all being like "wtf did I just watch???". I'm already feeling bad for the 3rd companion who didn't join us but would also like to watch this - he’ll likely be one of those confused movie-goers.

[brutallyangelic]

The Supetlative Of Trying.

Over my seventeen years of being present in this body, this mind, this soul, I have constantly seen others not being comfortable in their body, mind or soul. Being the overly extreme empathetic, emotional human that I am I have always tried to make it better. But sometimes the Better leads to the worst and the worst just can't get Better and the " Good, Better , Best " in your life is the superlative adjective , we have not come to connect terms with, within ourselves so maybe if we just tried to be enough instead of " good enough " or doing better than the past instead of " Better " and just fucking try our Best instead of " being the best" maybe we wouldn't have to fucking compare our body, mind and soul.

A secret of mine is that I am a big talker in "trying your best" when I do not know what my Best is. That I have spent nights reading a sentence over and over again and I have to resist the urge to pop another pill that my heart rate stays moderate because " trying my best" leaves my body jolting in the night, ripping my skin apart, screaming so loudly that nothing leaves my voice box, nothing but gasps for air leaving my body, nothing but the agony of not knowing if whatever I am doing is " good enough.". I still do not know what I am doing is enough and maybe that is because I am still learning how to breathe on the days I forget to , that even if I cannot do anything at least I know I did Good and that is the Best that I can do. When getting Better in my mind is having a final script of prescribed pills because I feel like i need to read scripture to prescribe my faith, or joy , or will to live, because it has been four years and and I still being prescribed happiness is still not the Best that I can do , because to wear this smile is the mask that I have taken off and I prefer the one I wear today. The one that gives my bones emotion. The one that makes my mind remember the good memories. The one that God gave me.

This poem was supposed to be about me telling others how beautiful they are because they cannot accept it in a simple way so I have to add a few metaphors , hyperboles , poetic devices to make them realize that they are beautiful. To extend the language of what their eyes behold so many their eyes will get the vocabulary mine sees when I look at them.

It is seventeen years later and I am still trying to turn my eye socket around so maybe then the way I look at others I can look at myself. I did not know this poem would be so hard to write but I know that this is right,

that I have lost sight

and I never really knew how to see In the first place.

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder then I must have been blind every God damn time I look in the mirror but is it not ironic ? How these honey burnt Hazel eyes is always free to witness the potentially perfected flaws in others but turns away when I look to it myself ? Or is that just a tragedy.

I told him that I was going to buy him a promise ring but he could not even promise to stay loyal to me so I said ,

" Fuck You."

And I have decided that I am going to purchase my own promise ring. A promise to love myself more than I should because I can give the galaxies of love to others but I get anxiety attacks the second someone tries to give me a street-name of love.

I remember nights I screamed in the mirror trying to tell myself that I love me. I still cry when people tell me that they love me. I think it is because I know if I start to believe or trust it I will hold it to close to my heart that I just might explode. I can already feel the love pumping through my broken veins but is that not what I was made to ? To bleed this love? To ache this love. ?

This world has constantly been trying to keep me in a jail cell, serving Mental Illness with a touch of witnessing the monsters as a midnight snack, chocking down my self doubt for breakfast, not giving me lunch because I did not work hard enough. Getting what I do not deserve in between. This is not in order, but that is the same way how mental illness works doesn't it ? Trying to create an order to disorder or a disorder to order or just trying.

I told my Phychaitrist that I want to stop my medication, the look of worry in her eyes told me the answer before she could. She said that I cannot because over the last 6 months to a year I had a replace. What she doesn't know, I had about more than a few during the past 6months alone. Just letting that sink into my ears I knew that I would still be on my medication for much longer than I intended to.

Another secret of mine is that I am still trying to practice self love and I do not practice as much as I should. But I love my mental well being enough to know that taking my medication is needed. I love myself enough to know that sometimes some love stories do not work out and that is okay. I love myself enough to know that just because it is not "good enough " for me but it is the Best that I can do and that one day , it will be Better.

- Nicole Druchen.

[roryedd]

I Will, I Swear

I rode in my first plane when I was eight. I remember having a million questions, and chewing handfuls of gum because my mother told me it would help reduce the pressure in my ears. I asked how it stayed in the air through my engorged cheeks, refusing to sit still, and I guess she told me the answer. I was too excited to listen.

We arrived in Chicago late at night after a brief storm. I marveled at the yellow glow cast by the streetlights on the slick roads and sidewalks, giving a warm glow to the city. I had never been out of the suburbs, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the magnificent buildings full of light.

We were asked to attend my grandparent’s 50th anniversary, and the hotel was selected for the family reunion by my great-aunt. She permanently resided on the top floor. It was a very old hotel, the kind with red velvet curtains and gold tassels. A thin veneer of dust that dulled what must have been a vibrant place that catered to American royalty in its prime.

My father was the oldest of his siblings, giving me a headstart on my cousins, so I was relegated to the toddler section with them. I wasn’t old enough for what they deemed adult conversation. I sat with my snotty little brother while my parents mingled and drank with my extended family.

They were Irish and Catholic and drunk, and before too long they were laughing hysterically in the reserved parlor. Frequently I would get pulled aside, my head patted, my cheeks pinched, and have relatives I’ve never met refer to me as “the middle” for my station among my own brother and sister. Once the adults had their fill, I was able to slink away and sit quietly in a corner where I spent the rest of the night pilfering handfuls of cheese from the snack tray.

My mother, young then, in a black dress and drenched in whatever perfume was popular at the time, stumbled over to me and told me that my grandfather wanted me to meet my great-aunt. That she had specifically requested me.

I was wearing an ill-fitting suit my parents had purchased for me just before the trip. “You’ll grow into it,” they said. I pressed the sides neatly down, doing my best to look presentable, and stood up, searching the crowd for her. My mother shook her head and took my hand, “No,” she said, “She’s in her room, I’ll take you.”

My mother guided me out of the parlor and straight to the elevators. She looked irritated, dearly wishing to return to the party, but I was content to obey, and happy to get away from the crowd of inebriated adults.

Exiting the elevator we continued down a long hall flanked by white marble accents that reflected the translucent pearl light fixtures and made the antique halls look like the inside of an oyster.

At the end of the hall was my great-aunt’s door. The number read 1901 in gold italics with an iron nail dotting each number. My mother knocked without looking down at me.

“Come in,” said a woman’s voice. It sounded more youthful than I anticipated—like cream or velvet.

My mother clenched my shoulder uncomfortably tight and spun me towards her. “You be polite and do what she says. We’re in the lobby, come down when you’re done.” She opened the door and shoved me through then turned and left.

“Come in, Peter, don’t be shy, let’s have a look at you.”

I stepped timidly at first. Her room was extravagant—fringed drapes, antique furniture, and velvet lamps that burned brightly in the small room. It smelled of sweet tobacco, like cavendish and honey.

“Hello, Aunt Cloe,” I said as politely as I could.

She wore a turquoise dress that collected across her chest and displayed an array of faded, but still beautiful tattoos that spread like a blossoming firework across her shoulders. They covered every inch of skin below her neck. I had never seen so many on one person before.

Her eyes lit up, a deep blue that outshone the dress and matching headband she wore. “You’re admiring my tattoos, I see.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh,” her face scrunched, “Don’t be so shy. Here, come sit with your Aunt Cloe. I’ll tell you about them.” She shot me a sideways smile and leaned closer. “Would you like to hear?”

“Yes,” I said, and sat across from her in front of an old wooden coffee table, the grain worn in the middle where tea cups rested without coasters.

“Would you like some candy?”

I nodded.

She leaned back around, displaying the tattoos on her back—a Virgin Mary, her arms clasped together with birds holding veils in their beaks at the top of each shoulder blade. When she turned back towards me she had a glass bowl in her hands filled with old candies.

She reached in and retrieved a piece between her tired old fingers, laying it on the table. She did that two more times until three candies laid on the coffee table in front of me.

“Go ahead,” she said, “Pick one.”

Two of them were pastel, pink and blue, and didn’t interest me. I selected the middle one, a brown piece in the shape of a barrel. Then I looked up at her. Her eyes began to well, and she smiled brightly, the wrinkles on her face recessing deep at the corners of her eyes, and continuing down to her cheeks like spreading spider webs.

“Go ahead,” she said. And I popped the candy in my mouth.

“Root be-” I began.

“Root Beer,” she finished, and wiped a tear that had collected just beneath her eye.

“When I was a little girl I didn’t get along with my parents or my brothers and sisters. We were a big family, and I didn’t care much for it.”

I nodded as I listened. I thought about my own family, and how I couldn’t disagree with the sentiment.

“So, when I was sixteen I ran away. We were living in Michigan then, and the circus had come to town. They had animals and trapeze and the women wore fabulous clothes with sparkling sequins. They twirled batons, and tamed lions, and I fell for them. I wanted that, I wanted it so badly. So I took what money I had saved and I left. Joining the circus at the time wasn’t so unheard of.”

Aunt Cloe took the blue piece of candy and popped it in her mouth, then laid back and looked to me, or rather, passed me and she continued to reminisce.

“It was less glamorous than I hoped. Most of my days with them were spent cleaning. First after the animals, then once they liked me, I was allowed to sell popcorn and cigarettes during the shows.”

She let the candy roll through her mouth, letting out a slight clicking noise as she squinted her eyes and thought back.

“There was a boy there. Duncan. He was dashing, and covered in twice the ink I have now. He was a bit older than me, a sailor. He was impressed.”

“Impressed?” I asked.

She smiled and her eyes beamed.

“It’s a sailing term. It’s when a merchant sailor is forced to become a soldier. It was hard to find capable sailors for warships, so they would capture innocent men and force them into the navy. Duncan was American, but captured by the British.”

“They did that? Kidnapped people?”

“Yes, child. It was illegal at the time, which is why they sent him way out west. After four years they trusted him enough to leave the ship, and that’s where he learned to tattoo. He visited shamans on the islands he visited, and he learned from them, adding to the tattoos he already had.”

"He already had tattoos?”

“Well, child, that’s how Duncan was special. He was born with them.”

The last of the root beer candy dissolved in my mouth and I swallowed deeply as I leaned in to listen.

“He said it was a curse from long ago, or a blessing, who can tell? That he was born many times, each time bringing with him the tattoos from before.”

She leaned back and waved her hands slowly across her chest.

“Over his heart was an auroch, an ancient bull, painted in harsh strokes, and above it the North Star.” Her hands moved to the top of her shoulder. “Up here was an orchid, beautiful, and beneath it the constellation Ares and a ram’s horn.” Her hands continued to her other shoulder. “Here lied Horus and beneath it the sun.”

She smiled at me again, the same youthful light in her eyes piercing through her aged appearance.

“You see, Duncan was touched. Every life he lived he got a tattoo and every life he lived thereafter he would add to his collection. By the time I had met him he was covered. After eight long years of fighting for the British he had finished his life’s tattoo and escaped. Built a raft and sailed all the way back to America. He landed in Oregon, and took a car back east. He told me it was his first car ride, and how he couldn’t stop asking questions about it, but too excited to listen.”

"And then he joined the circus, like you?” I asked.

“He did. He spent most of his days driving stakes for the tents, and at night he’d sit beneath an old gas lamp, and people would pay a penny to see his tattoos.

And you know, he never spent a dime on himself. He would take me out whenever he could. He’d buy me a milkshake and sometimes have a root beer, but always with me. He was gentle, and kind, and strong, and good.

He gave me my first tattoo after a month together.” Cloe leaned forward and pointed to a small orchid on her ankle. It was faded, intangible—like a melting snowflake on her fragile skin. “It was a gift he gave to me. He said he learned the magic from the shamans, and it would live on like his own.”

"What happened to him?” I asked, squirming eagerly in my chair.

“We were down south. Duncan was out with some of the other folk we traveled with and there was a commotion. Some townies had accused a young man of talking to his sister, and Duncan had intervened. Duncan walloped those boys good. Something he picked up with the Brits.

But later, as we were packing the show, they came back, a whole slew of them. Duncan pleaded with me, go inside, he begged, but I wouldn’t listen.

They came up to him with bats and chains, but he had his big stake hammer with him so they had to surround him, and one cracked him across the back of the head. I ran…” Cloe’s eyes began to water again, and she wiped the back of her hand across her lips.

"I ran to save him, to help him. I landed my fists as hard as I could against the man who struck him, but I caught the backhand of another that sent me clear into the dirt.

I watched them, dragging poor Duncan by a rope wrapped around his throat, down the dirt road. He clawed as hard as he could at the noose, but he couldn’t get his wits about him. I tried to save him, screaming, I tried, but those boys held me down.

As the dirt kicked up around him, his shirt torn from his back, he cried out to me. He said, ‘Don’t worry, Cloe. I’ll come back one day. Don’t cry. Don’t worry. I’ll come back for you. I will, I swear.’ Cloe’s eyes watered as she stared at me, her lips quivering, and then she calmed, collecting herself.

"They swung the rope over a tree branch and hung him. Right there. In front of god, me, and the rest of us. They killed him.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay, dear,” she said, composing herself. “It was so nice to finally meet you. Thank you for entertaining an old woman. I’m quite tired now—you can go back to the party.”

I didn’t want her story to end, I wanted to know more about Duncan. But she stood up, her tired old body shaking as she did, and she hugged me. And she cried, but not from sadness. She gave me a reassuring smile, her eyes still so blue, and I felt fulfilled—like I finally belonged somewhere, and my problems, my station in life, fell away.

I returned to the party that night, and my family was expertly drunk by the time I did. I was told it was getting late and to go with my older sister and little brother to bed, so we did.

Great-aunt Cloe died that night in her sleep. In the morning everyone talked about how lucky we were to be together for her passing; that it was a miracle she made it to ninety-nine at all.

I can’t help but suspect that she knew. She must have. In the following months an auroch, painted in harsh strokes, started to appear over my heart. Over the next few years others began appearing, slowly at first, and then vibrantly they kaleidoscoped across my body.

I’m still looking, no matter how long it takes. I’ll find her orchid again. I will, I swear.

See the whole anthology:

https://www.amazon.com/Greatest-Science-Fiction-Anthology-Future-ebook/dp/B0744GHMRY